


When It Rains in Boston

by windfallswest



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time, when Shawn takes an impromptu road-trip, Cory comes along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When It Rains in Boston

**Author's Note:**

> ~~You have _no idea_ how long this has been sitting on my hard drive.~~ First-time fic set post-domino-break-up in the college years.

  
Cory and Shawn came staggering in from the rain, giggling and somewhat drunk, to drip on the Marriott lobby's carpet. They were maybe a little drunk, but mostly they were high on the pathetic condition of their young, stupid lives. Very, very _dumped_ lives. It was a Friday night, and instead of being in Philadelphia they were in Boston, and instead of being in class today they'd been in a car, driving to Boston. Not the best-thought-out of their schemes, but what the hell? At least Cory'd come along from the start this time, so that was progress, yeah?

Shawn slung his arm around Cory's shoulders for stability and tried to pull himself together. He was starting to notice things now, like how it was warmer in here than in the autumn storm and his tee-shirt was really cold anyway. The alcohol and simmering hysteria inclined him to hold tight to Cory's solid core of paradoxically clammy best-friend heat, so he left his hand where it was and let Cory guide him to the front desk.

"Got any rooms?"

They'd been on their way back to the car, really they had, but the rain was un-fucking-believable and they might as well crash here as anywhere.

The night clerk clicked around on his computer some, frowning at the monitor. "I'm afraid the only vacancy is the Honeymoon Suite," he said at last, sounding a bit uncertain.

Oh, irony. "It's under the roof, right?"

"Of course," the clerk replied defensively.

"And it doesn't rain on you and give you pneumonia?"

"Absolutely not!" The guy was sounding offended now.

"Then I have no problem with it. How about you Cory?" Shawn swung his head around to look at Cory.

"Oh, fine," Cory surrendered. "I get dibs on the couch, though. No way I'm sleeping in one of those froofy heart-shaped beds with the red silk sheets and things, no way."

Judging by the colour of his face, the clerk was about three more seconds away from going Mr. Feeney on their asses, but he took their money anyway and handed over the keys and sent them on their way so fast Shawn almost expected to have whiplash.

  
Shawn inhaled a deep lungful of steam and turned under the shower's sharp, hot spray. He let the water run over his face for a minute, snorted and shook it off. Behind him, the door opened and closed, admitting a whoosh of cool air.

"Hey—" Shawn started to complain. Then he jumped, nearly knocking into Cory, who was now with him in the shower, naked.

"Whoa there." Cory grabbed Shawn's shoulder to keep him from slipping. His other hand was...

"Cory?" Shawn asked from somewhere in the mental void between pole-axed and uncomprehending.

"Shawnie?" Cory replied, raising his eyebrows but not moving his hand. That was starting to be a problem. He was standing really fucking close, Shawn thought insanely, then _oh my god_.

Cory backed him up against the wall of the ridiculously huge shower and kissed him. With tongue. Cory pulled back and stared intently at Shawn, who stared back blankly and slack-jawed. This was the most confused he had ever been in his life.

Then.

 _Oh my god._

They were of a sudden very horizontal on the tiled floor. Shawn wasn't sure how it happened without anyone getting concussed, but he was naked in the shower with Cory hard underneath him, so someone up there must have liked him after all.

Shawn pressed sucking kisses down Cory's neck to his shoulder, then mouthed his way over towards the centre of his chest. Cory made a noise, not quite a whimper and not quite a grunt. Then he made another one. It was probably the sexiest goddamn thing Shawn had ever heard. How Topanga had ever...god, how had Topanga _not?_ Shawn could barely...and she'd had permission, since forever, since—not thinking about Topanga right now. Just, no.

Shawn scraped his teeth experimentally over Cory's collarbone and was rewarded by Cory's arching up into his mouth and a rapid chant of _Shawn, oh, Shawnshawnshawn_.

Shawn gave the skin in front of him another lick, but he really _had_ to be kissing Cory right now. His hands were everywhere; so were Cory's. So were their elbows. Shawn hadn't been this awkward with anyone since he was thirteen.

"Outta here, gotta—nnf. Gotta get—okay, maybe not," Shawn surrendered. Shawn was on his back now. Cory was kneeling over him, hands stroking lightly over his ribs just below his armpits. The swipe of his tongue on Shawn's stomach as he licked away the water made him shiver and groan, made him brace himself, palms flat against the slick tile behind him and push back into the touch.

Shawn wrapped his legs around Cory's waist and desperately pulled them together. Cory's head came up and wow, that was definitely the Topanga-intent in his eyes. Heat-seeking un-fucking-stoppable look he couldn't break from when slowly, deliberately, Cory ground their hips together, the wry left corner of his mouth quirked upwards. Confident. Possessive.

"God," Shawn choked, mind exploding. "God, Cory, please, fuck me."

Cory looked stunned for a second, like he didn't know what to say. For half a second that lasted an eternity, Shawn was sure he'd get up and walk away.

Then Cory was kissing him until he never wanted to breathe again. It was rough and messy and electric, Cory's mouth tasting like more than the faint hint of beer and salt, like warmth and closeness and love, all the things Cory had always been.

"I've never done this before, you know," confessed Cory, crushing him tight until Shawn wasn't sure where his skin stopped and Cory's began.

Shawn swallowed a lump of something to potent to be identifiable in his throat. "I know," he whispered in Cory's ear. His arms were wrapped around Cory, one hand in his ridiculous hair and the other at the small of his back.

Eventually, Shawn turned his head and recaptured Cory's mouth. Above him, Cory was tense with anticipation. Shawn forced down the tight bubble of nervousness in his stomach, concentrating on the slip and slide of Cory against him, on bringing them both back from the edge of panic. Cory was following _him_ here, he realised and fought for calm.

Reaching an arm back over his head, Shawn groped for the tiny bottle of complimentary shampoo.

"This, god, this on your fingers." Shawn gasped as Cory found the sensitive spot on his neck and started biting. "AaaghkohfuckIhateyou."

Cory lifted his head and _smirked_. He sat back on his thighs. Shawn's legs fell away to the floor. He lay panting up at the blank, white ceiling until he felt Cory's finger probing at his hole.

"Do it," Shawn insisted before either of them had a chance to lose his nerve. "Do it, do it, do it."

Bracing one arm above Shawn's shoulder, Cory pushed his finger in. Cory was watching Shawn's face with an intensity at once eager and concerned, almost like a puppy. The thought made him laugh even as Cory's finger, probing deeper, brushed his prostate and transmuted the sound to a moan. Cory's fingers worked in and out of him, gaining confidence.

"Is it—are you—?" Cory asked, so earnestly concerned.

"Nngah." Shawn's moan echoed around the bathroom. "Yes," he finally managed. "That was a yes. Keep doing that, keep—ohhh."

Cory added another finger, and another, and Shawn was writhing and shouting, arms braced back over his head for traction so he could fuck himself on the three fingers Cory had up his ass.

"Shawn," Cory said, like he couldn't believe it. "This is incredible. I can _feel_ you. Want you so bad."

"Take me," Shawn panted. "God, Cory, now. Your cock—"

He somehow got one leg over Cory's shoulder, both their hands down there, guiding Cory in. Cory's cock felt huge, a burning stretch that made him shout again. Cory rocked slowly, easing his way in bit by bit.

Once he was in all the way, he thrust cautiously; Shawn moaned. He wriggled a bit, then pushed himself up onto Cory's cock. Fuck yes. Right on target. Cory was so hard, so big inside him; he looked seconds from coming. Shawn clenched, bore down again.

"Move, Cory."

"Ohh, I move and I'm losing it."

"I want you to lose it. I want you, Cory. Want you to fuck me hard, fuck me until I scream. Scream for you."

"God, Shawn." Cory's hips jerked.

"That's it. More, more."

Cory groaned and started moving, picking up the pace of Shawn's thrusts. So good. Faster and harder, without Shawn's urging. He was bent almost flush, lips brushing Shawn's chest.

"You're so tight, god, I never knew. Feel so good. So hot. Aaaha! Do that again, Shawnie. Shawnie."

Shawn clenched again, tighter, as Cory slide out almost all the way, then came slamming back in. They were going fast now; his breaths were cries, Cory's name on endless repeat.

Cory set his shoulders and fucked him hard, sending his mind spinning. A tongue on his nipple, a hand on his cock and he was coming so hard he couldn't even hear the water drumming over them.

"Shawn," Cory panted. " _Shawn_."

"Keep going," Shawn moaned.

Cory was still nailing his prostate, fucking perfect aim. Shawn felt like he was melting, brain dripping out like shampoo from an open bottle. One of Shawn's hands trailed down until it found Cory's ass. Grab, pull, rake of his nails. He slid a finger into the crevice, circled the opening, and Cory came with four hard thrusts that made Shawn backbend off the slippery floor.

They collapsed together and let the hot shower pound them clean. Cory curled an arm around him, and Shawn burrowed in close.

Eventually, they made it out of the shower, threw on shirts and boxers, and crashed on the couch. Cory refused the bed on principle (froofy red hearts, he insisted), and Shawn was in no mood to argue. The couch was comfortable enough, anyway.


End file.
